


Later

by Bullheaded25



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: ARYA STARK BITCHES, Gendrya - Freeform, I CALLED IT, My girl, Spoilers, got s8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 23:06:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18647962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bullheaded25/pseuds/Bullheaded25
Summary: Immediately following 8x03.The surprise of learning Arya had defeated the Night King and saved them all seemed little in comparison to the shock that engulfed him when he turned around to see Arya’s arms around Gendry’s neck, the two of them locked in a fierce embrace.





	Later

**Author's Note:**

> I JUST WANT TO SAY THAT I HAVE BEEN TELLING PEOPLE FOR MONTHS ARYA IS GOING TO KILL THE NIGHT KING AND SO MANY PEOPLE SAID IT WASN'T GOING TO HAPPEN. My baby!!!! Gendry and Arya survived y'all!

The sudden silence filled Jon’s lungs like water, making his breathing harsh, short, and ragged. He fell forward, his hand catching on the stone that had just shielded him from Viserion’s blue flame. He managed to level his breathing and looked toward the dragon’s immobile body laying across the courtyard of Winterfell.

The army of the dead spread across the yard, some laying on the ground, some in piles. 

“SNOW!”

Jon looked toward the sound, his whole body rocking again with the effort it took him to breathe and to think.

“THE NIGHT KING IS DEAD!” Tormund roared, yelling loudly across the courtyard for everyone to hear. “WE FUCKING WON!”

The survivors that surrounded them yelled in victory as best as they could, exhausted and injured and battle-worn. Jon pushed himself upright. 

“Bran,” he said to himself. He found the strength within himself to move his feet. With Longclaw’s tip dragging through the dirt and blood, he used it as a cane to help himself over the mound of dead bodies, some wrights, some still covered in flesh, and past Viseron’s skull. 

“Jon -” 

Jon looked to see Tormund and Gendry stepping and sliding down the piles of bodies they had been fighting on. 

“Bran,” Jon repeated numbly. He continued his trek toward the Godswood, his pace quickening as much as he could muster. What would he find? Would Bran be dead? Who killed the Night King? Theon didn’t have Valyrian Steel, who was protecting Bran that had Valyrian Steel?

“Bran!” Jon yelled once he entered the Godswood. “Bran!”

He walked along the dead bodies littering the forest floor. There was a clear path between bodies as if they had stepped aside for their King. The only body that crossed the walkway was the one of Theon, a spear through his middle and his eyes opened wide. Jon stared at his body for a long moment, then looked up, more terrified than ever to see what had happened to his little brother. 

Arya blocked Bran from Jon’s view, but her presence alone sent a shock through Jon’s body. Arya had a Valyrian Steel dagger. The dead circled the Weirwood tree and the hot springs, shards of ice surrounding Arya and Bran. 

“Arya!” Jon shouted in a hoarse voice. She turned to face him, her chest rising and falling with the same intensity that Jon’s was but when her eyes found his across the fog, her face broke into a smile. 

Jon heard Tormund and Gendry reach him, the ground crunching beneath their boots as they stepped over Theon’s body. But Jon was halfway across the clearing a moment later, a sudden burst of energy allowing him to run toward his two siblings. Arya runs to meet him, springing into his arms as she had done when he first returned to Winterfell. Jon nearly fell backward with her force, but he regained his balance and squeezed Arya so tightly that he could hear her breathing hitch. 

“I killed the Night King,” Arya whispered, a wet and short laugh escaping her throat. 

Jon put her back on her feet, and stared down at her. 

“You killed the Night King,” he repeated, tears running from his eyes into his beard. He emitted a wet laugh of his own and pulled Arya to his chest for another brief hug. “We won.”

Jon and Arya pulled apart after another moment. Jon looked to Bran, who despite the chaos that surrounded him seemed peaceful as always. He stepped to his youngest brother and hugged him tightly to his chest. He felt Bran’s arms wrap around his arms as best as he could manage, and a choked sob escaped Jon. He stood again, kissed Bran’s untouched head, and turned to look at the others. 

The surprise of learning Arya had defeated the Night King and saved them all seemed little in comparison to the shock that engulfed him when he turned around to see Arya’s arms around Gendry’s neck, the two of them locked in a fierce embrace. He felt himself begin to lose his balance again. He looked at his sister and friend again, then to Tormund, who had his wild grin plastered on to his face, then back at Bran, who had a soft and small smile playing at his lips. 

Arya released her hold on Gendry, sinking back on to and turning to look around, impossibly more breathless than before. Jon continued to stare at the two of them in shock and even beneath the soot and mud and blood that covered Gendry’s face he could see the blacksmith flush. 

“Later,” Jon croaked. 

Gendry gave him a stiff nod in response, Tormund let out a roar and clapped Gendry hard on the back.

**Author's Note:**

> I have the desire to write an entire fic about this season but should I? Should I wait until it's over? THESE LAST TWO EPISODES HAVE BEEN TOO MUCH FOR ME TO HANDLE.


End file.
